


Solitary

by Hayato (TheLennyBunny)



Category: Star Trek: Alternate Original Series (Movies)
Genre: Canon Compliant, Gen, POV Second Person, Post-Nero, Reader-Insert, pre-into darkness
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-08-11
Updated: 2018-08-11
Packaged: 2019-06-25 15:03:25
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,241
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15643191
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheLennyBunny/pseuds/Hayato
Summary: In the wake of the attack, everything is silent.It's crushing.





	Solitary

The grounds were quiet. This wasn’t some new thing- it had happened every other week, parties and tests sending people into night-long jags that ended in quiet shuffling and people passing around painkillers. You knew quiet. You knew silence.

It was the fact the quiet rang hollowly that disturbed you. 

There was no one wandering down the halls, no one murmuring in the library. The canteen was virtually empty, and even the roads around the academy were barren. It was a veritable ghost town, the scene to one of the horror stories you tended to read. It was disturbing. But there wasn’t much else to expect, was there?

You saw other cadets and professors still, of course. Not everyone had been shot down. Not everyone was gone.

But it didn’t help much.

* * *

Talking had been difficult ever since you woke up to the announcement that most the people you knew were dead. You knew what you wanted to say, could feel it in your throat as you opened your mouth, but-

The words just wouldn't come out.

You learned basic signs and tried not to feel sorry for yourself, knowing losing your voice was pittance compared to others. At least you were still alive, still ambulatory.

Small mercies.

* * *

You saw them around campus sometimes- the group that had supposedly saved you all. That statement wasn’t meant to be derogatory, for all the rumours you had heard about Kirk; you simply hadn’t been there, and whispers tended to conflict with each other. You couldn’t be certain if Kirk had taken down some mechanical monstrosity or if S’chn T’gai had piloted the ship into a black hole or if the aggressive medic that followed them had poisoned the enemies until they were the only ones standing.

Looking at them, you didn’t doubt they had been through something taxing. The professor’s face showed actual wear for once while Kirk had  _ finger-shaped bruises  _ on his neck.

It almost made you feel- inadequate, like you were a coward somehow for not facing the horrors they had. For not witnessing the tragedy that had been Vulcan. You knew it wasn’t true, considering that you’d been one of the first responders to help the overtaxed medical crew when they finally docked, had been thanked profusely by the crew and Vulcans that hadn’t seen more than rations to sustain everyone on board the underprepared ship for the past two weeks, but.

It didn’t stop you from avoiding the surviving  _ Enterprise  _ crew fervently.

* * *

Going into their dorm rooms felt unreal now.

They weren't mausoleums or time capsules or anything like that. They simply seemed  _ wrong _ , left as they had been with their owners never coming home. You went into one and found a moulding care package stuffed with homemade sweets, went into another and saw they had been in the middle of cleaning.

No one stopped you. No one cared enough to, maybe, too busy with arranging memorials and trying to rebuild after losing at least three generations of officers. 

You were just...

Soaking in their remnants. Would spend hours sitting on the floor and remembering where that picture had came from or that shirt. One room you saw the Romulan Ale the idiot from Vulcan 211 had smuggled in, claiming it was basically the same as a pina colada. You picked up the bottle, turning it this way and that. Romulan script was completely different compared to Vulcan, complete gibberish to you. You had spent the night he brought it in pretending you all could read it, reading off progressively stupider labels and giggling.

You hurled the bottle at the wall, watching it shatter into hundreds of pieces. No one heard it but you.

* * *

Most everyone in their junior year was being put on an accelerated class track, curriculum being twisted so you could graduate by the time they had rebuilt the fleet. It was difficult with a reduced staff, remaining seniors and professors picking up the slack of dozens while the students struggled to acclimate to the speed.

Kirk took control of no less than three courses, leading with an ease most students were surprised by. He didn't allow for slack in his classes for all that he joked when the hour was over, staring down anyone trying to misdirect the lesson.

His were some of the most productive in the academy, at that point.

* * *

Kirk was on the television, looking out at a crowd of reporters solemnly as Professor S’Chn T’gai stood beside him and Marcus behind. You couldn’t help but pause due to the look on his face, grim and tired and irritated all at once. You set the remote down and listened.

"...Rogue Romulan, who targeted Vulcan due to a perceived slight. He destroyed the planet using technology stolen from another and planned to attack Earth next;  however, thanks to the crew of the Enterprise, he was stopped before he could reach the solar system."

The crowd burst into questions and you realised  _ Ah, it was a PR event to make people stop trying to dig into the matter. _ You curled up on the couch, listening to him misdirect questions about the why's or how's, slick as he reassured people.

He didn't look happy about doing it, relieved in any sense of the word. It you made feel better, slightly.

* * *

The memorial was in a few days. You didn't know how to feel about that, so you didn't think about it.

* * *

"You dropped this."

You jumped, spinning around to blink at the woman in front of you. You knew her vaguely, had heard the rumours that she was together with Professor S'chn T'gai and could throw a mean right hook. Looking at her, you wouldn't be surprised if both were true.

She was holding your sketchpad. You stared at it blankly before realising it must have fallen out of your bag. You took it carefully, nodding in thanks. She eyed you, frowning, but didn't say- whatever it was she wanted to say, instead only telling you to take care of yourself before going off in the other direction.

You watched her leave and wondered what it was like, thinking you were going to die. Then you scrubbed the thought from your mind, wondering what was wrong with you.

* * *

Sometimes there was the feeling of eyes on you, someone watching as you hurried about the halls alone. You ignored them, since anyone who wanted to approach you could do it themself.

* * *

“You’re a Starfleet cadet aren’t you?” You jumped, head shooting up to stare at the reporter close to you. You hunched your shoulders, resolutely turning and hurrying in the other direction. “Wait! Messere! If I could just have a moment of your time before the memorial-”

You ducked into an alleyway and then an open doorway, holding your breath and closing your eyes as the- the  _ jackass _ tried to find you, eventually turning onto the next street to see if you had fled there.

You opened your eyes, staring up at the flights of stairs leading to apartments. Fucking vultures, the lot of them.

One minute, two, then you stepped back out, glancing around. You had plenty of time before the memorial started, so you weren’t in danger of being late, but you were still antsy. This was something you wanted to put past yourself- move on from. Let the scars heal some. You didn’t think you would succeed, but it was the principal of the thing.

The streets were crowded at this time of day, especially for the event in three hours. People were going to and fro, murmuring to their companions or keeping their heads down. It made your figure weaving through the crowds an island, a lone wolf heading for its next destination- except that was cliched, and obviously a result of you being left alone too long. 

You sighed, shaking your head. Maybe your father was right and you needed to go home for a bit, get away from San Francisco. Maybe he was wrong and you just needed to go out and get shitfaced drunk and loosen up some. It wasn’t something you had enough energy to contemplate as the Cochrane stadium loomed in front of you.

The remains of the academy, their friends, family milled about, quietly murmuring to each other or standing alone, refusing to engage. Your family was still back in New York, calling you every night. Your friends were in the void that had been Vulcan.

You take a seat and try not to think about that, even if their empty urns were lined up in front of you. You try not to think of anything for the next hour.

The services began at noon, a horn blowing and signalling for people to sit. Any talking petered out quickly until you were all sitting silently, watching as Admiral Archer took the podium. He looked out at the sea of faces for a moment, some in uniform, some in suits. You were in your medical blues, collar digging into your skin and jacket feeling oppressive even in the chill.

"Messeres," He finally began, "I do not believe I need to speak about the loss we have experienced. We all feel it deeply, and gussied up words won't change that. Instead, let me say this: these officers rushed to the aid of a people not knowing what they would face or what lie ahead. They did so on a moment's notice, and without thinking of possible consequence, something some senior, touted officers in the fleet refuse to even if it  _ will  _ save lives."

He paused, letting that sink in.

"Nero took a lot from us, and it will take years for us to rebuild. But we can be certain of one thing that he can't change.

"Their sacrifice will not be in vain."

* * *

It was, of course. If whispers were right they had flown into an ambush, taken out the moment they had come out of warp.

It was a nice sentiment, though. Especially as they read out names and tracts, lining up just how many had died.

* * *

The service concluded as afternoon was turning to evening, people curling into their clothes and hurrying to escape the cold. Some held urns, the little they had left of their loved ones. You stood outside the stadium and tried to think, mind blank.

You needed to eat hadn't all day but you weren't hungry, needed to warm up but you couldn't move locked in place, needed to _ breathe but it was so hard- _

"Hey. You're the kid from th' first responders, aren't you?"

You blinked, focusing your eyes. One of the  _ Enterprise  _ group was standing in front of you, scowling- the doctor who'd stepped up to CMO. Mccoy you think? He raised a brow when you kept staring and you cleared your throat, nodding hurriedly. He kept looking at you, eyes trailing up and down.

"What're y'plannin' to do after this, kid?"

You blinked again, trying to figure out why he was even  _ asking _ , and shrugged. Mccoy scowled at that, sighing grievously like you'd just done something irritating.

You yelped a little when he took your arm, dragging you off to a group waiting by the road. Spotting a blond head and pointed ears amongst them you realised  _ Oh, it was the Crew _ . You stared at him, them in confusion as you approached, group greeting you like this was something that happened every day.

"You're the one that managed to hypo Scotty aren't you? Kirk grinned at you, nudging your shoulder as you all began to walk. "Good job on that, even Bones couldn't nab him."

You looked at him for a moment before glancing back at Scotty. The engineer waved cheerfully at you, seemingly not caring that you had dive-tackled him a month ago. 

You looked back to Kirk in utter bewilderment. Mccoy sighed.

"Kid, you've been wandering the academy like a ghost for the past month. It's not healthy." You don't deny it but still give him a dubious look, silently asking  _ What does that have to do with me? _

As you paused at a crosswalk, Professor S'chn T'gai spoke up for the first time.

"Group interaction is vital to human mental health. It is logical to assume you are not faring well isolated as you are, cadet."

Oh.

Kirk picked up from there, throwing an arm over your shoulder with a grin. "So Bones and I decided you needed some fun to get you outta that rut!"

"You decided that you gotdamn fool. I just said we needed to talk to 'em."

"You wound me, Bones."

"Oh  _ really- _ do y'want me to really wound ya, Jim-"

You listened to them bicker, others pitching in their two cents or laughing as you walked to wherever you were going. They dragged you into it periodically, Kirk whining for your help or- Uhura?- glancing at you in commiseration. It was vastly different from the quiet of your dorm, and maybe that was a good thing.

When you paused at a crosswalk Kirk leaned in, murmuring in your ear and sending a shiver up your spine.

"There's no point torturing yourself for something you wouldn't be able to stop. Live here, not in the ghosts."

You let them herd you into a diner and breathed, letting the conversation flow over you. It wouldn't be alright, but you weren't the only one hurting. 

You just needed to remember they were here, too.

**Author's Note:**

> thelennystorm.tumblr.com


End file.
